by Sam Crescent
“That is never going to change?”
“Milner knew the score. We need to make sure his replacement knows the same score. I’m not rotting in some prison. This is my club, my town, and my life. No one, and certainly no cop, is going to get the better of me. You want to know why we continue to do the shit we do and stay out with our freedom, breathing in the fresh air and walking without a care in the world?” He tapped his forehead. “I always think. I always stay one step ahead of the men. I don’t leave anything to chance. We got stuff in place so we can hold the fort for a couple of months. Get to know the new guy. See what he’s all about, and then, when I know his deal, I can take him out. Easy as that.” He climbed back onto his bike. “We all have a weakness. It’ll be easy to find his, believe me.”
“What’s your weakness then?” Bear asked.
“I don’t have any. It’s what makes me so much fucking better than all of you.”
Bear burst out laughing, but Preacher didn’t stick around to join him or to laugh. He had shit he needed to do, like find out who was going to be the new thorn in his side.
****
“I hate studying.” Bishop closed up his book and threw it across the room. “Ah, so much better. See, I don’t need to study.” He smiled as Robin rolled her eyes at him.
“You do know you’re going to have to do some studying to graduate?” Robin asked.
“No, I don’t. I don’t need to have an education. I’ve got the basics. I can read and write. I’ve also got the capacity to tell fuckers no, and guess what I can tell when I’ve not been paid enough.” He rubbed at his head.
He’d never been particularly academic, and she knew it was a constant source of contention with him. Most of the time in class when he didn’t know anything, he’d simply mock the teacher or do something goofy in class. More often than not, he ended up at the library, where she knew for a fact he made out or had sex with girls in school.
She crawled across the floor, grabbing his book. “That’s no way to treat books, just so you know.”
“What are you going to do, spank me?”
“Why does everything have to lead to something dirty with you?”
“I’m a natural at it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who wanted to study. I’m here trying to help you, and all you can do is throw books around.”
“Look, Robin, I wanted you to come over. Your mom was being a bitch to you, and I couldn’t stand it. You know how she gets.”
Tonight was particularly difficult. Her mother was going on one of her new diets and believed it was the best thing for Robin to join in and have some fun.
“She means well.”
“No, she means to hurt you because you’re Bear’s daughter. Does he even know the kind of shit she tells you?”
“Oh, you mean the ‘men don’t like fat hips or a saggy butt,’ or I’ve got to strap my breasts up because ‘men don’t like them heading south too soon.’” Yep, some of her mother’s most spiteful comments usually came after a whole lot of drink. She shrugged. “I’m used to it, Bishop. I’m not going to go and tell my dad about every single little detail that she does. It wouldn’t be fair. There would be a whole lot to tell.” Her parents’ marriage had never been pretty. She knew the only reason Bear married her mom was because of her.
She’d been very much aware of the paternity test as well. Her mother’s reputation was hard to get away from. Most of the men at the club had been with her mother and from what she’d heard, some of the town men as well, including a few husbands.
The doorbell rang.
“That’s the pizza,” Bishop said. He pulled out some cash and handed it to her. “Be a darlin’, I’m so comfy.”
Taking the money from his hand, she got to her feet and walked out of the room, heading down the long corridor only to stop when she saw Preacher at home. She hadn’t even heard him come back yet.
“They’re waiting for their money,” he said, when he caught sight of her. “You better have ordered for me.”
He had a towel wrapped around his shoulders, and it looked like he was trying to cut his hair.
Shaking her head, she made her way to the door.
She saw Bishop had outdone himself with six extra-large pizzas. Handing the money to the guy, she took the pizzas and closed and locked the door. Returning to the kitchen, she saw Preacher still trying to cut his own hair.
“Did you order all of that?”
“Nope. This is all Bishop.”
“I’m starving.” Preacher put the scissors down, opened up the first box and took a slice, biting into it.
“Why are you trying to cut your hair?” she asked. “You know they have hairdressers for that kind of stuff.”
“Yeah, and I don’t trust anyone, so this is the next best thing. What are you doing here?”
“Studying.”
“Rebecca was being a bitch, and I didn’t want to hear any of the nasty shit she was saying. Dad, they’re my pizzas,” Bishop said.
“And seeing as I pay you to do nothing, they’re now mine. Rebecca was being a bitch? There’s a surprise.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
“Back to the hair. Why aren’t you getting a professional to do it?” she asked. Opening up the box, she took a slice as Preacher went for his second.
“You do know someone would love the chance to off him right. To run a knife across his neck and drain the life from him,” Bishop said.
“Colorful.”
“That’s what I am, darlin’, all about the colorful.”
“Why have you started calling me darlin’ all of a sudden?”
“I’m trying it out.” She finished her slice as Bishop grabbed two boxes. “Why don’t you get Robin to cut your hair? She’s done mine a few times, and you’ve never noticed it wasn’t professionally done.”
“You’ve cut his hair?”
Bishop had left them alone, and she wanted to kill him.
“He kept doing that flicky thing with his head as if it was in his eyes. It drove me crazy, and I didn’t think I had much choice. Do his hair or lose my sanity.”
“Fair play.” Preacher ate another slice. “You want to give it a try? Unless I’ve pissed you off at some point and you’re really not interested in being nice to me.”
She chuckled. “Are you asking me if I want to slit your throat?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have any sudden urges to do that, so I think we’re safe.”
Preacher sat down and held out the scissors for her to take. Her hand shook a little, but she took the offered scissors with a smile.
“Okay. You do know I’m not good at this, right?”
“So long as you still make me look like a man.”
“Don’t you have a razor where you could shave it all off?”
“Not going to happen.” Preacher bit into his slice of pizza. “Do your worst.”
Her heart was racing. She had no desire to slit his throat, but what if he wanted to do that to her by the end of the haircut?
She’d cut Bishop’s a few times because he refused to go to the hairdressers. She knew the only reason he didn’t want to go was because he’d slept with two of the women there and not called them back.
Grabbing a comb, she ran it over his hair, stalling.
It felt nice. Silky, even, which she didn’t expect.
She took her time making the first cut, afraid of fucking it up and getting it wrong.
Once the first cut was done though, she figured that was the worst that could happen.
“So, what kind of shit does your mom say to you?” Preacher asked.
“Oh, you know, the usual mom stuff.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“You haven’t had a mom?”
“I’ve had a mom, but not one who was any good.”
She paused in cutting his hair. This had to be the first time he’d shared personal information.
Should she be flattered?
&nb
sp; Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she continued snipping away, only taking small cuts in case she messed up.
“She likes to complain about my weight. It’s the only problem she has with me. My room is always tidy. I’m a good student. I do my chores.” She couldn’t figure out why her mother hated her so much. At the end of the day, without her, her mother wouldn’t be classed as an old lady.
“What kind of shit does she say about your weight?”
“Do you really want me to bore you with all the details?”
“I’m asking, aren’t I?”
“True, but it’s girl stuff. You know having too big hips, I’m top heavy.” Her face was once again on fire.
Bishop had heard some of the nasty stuff she’d said and it hadn’t embarrassed her, but saying it to Preacher, it was different.
“Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Rebecca has always been a spiteful cunt.”
“I already figured out long ago I’d never be good enough for my mom, and I stopped trying to be.”
“It’s because she gave birth to a girl.”
She paused and turned so she was able to look him in the eye. “What do you mean?”
“Your mother wanted a boy. She believed it would be a way to control Bear more. You’re just a girl and don’t have a place within the club, only as a daughter and, if you decide, one day as an old lady.”
“But a son would be different.”
“Yep. For one, he wouldn’t be no old lady. He’d earn his patch.”
“You know it’s sexist, right? A woman not getting a place within the club.”
“Being a brother is no place for a woman. We’ve got to know our backs are taken care of by each other. Women are not stronger than us. I’m not being sexist. I’m being biologically accurate. Besides, none of my men would ever trust a woman at their backs.”
“Would you?”
“Maybe one I hadn’t fucked.”
She laughed. “So you can only trust women you haven’t slept with. Is that because you don’t call them back or write?”
“I don’t have a place in my life for a woman.”
“Okay.” She went back to cutting his hair.
“Your mother also doesn’t like the fact Bear never fell for her bullshit when you were a kid.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he was at the club, she’d threaten to leave you outside of another clubhouse, around town, sell you to strangers. She even went so far as to leave you in the park. She also left Bishop in the park, and that was the last time she did anything like that. I took care of it. You’re a club daughter, Robin, and that gives you more power than she does. You’re Bear’s princess. She’s jealous because the truth is, if she was to leave, no one would care. You, on the other hand, you will stay.”
“So you’re saying my own mother is jealous of me because of my position within the club?”
“Yep. Some women are just spiteful like that. I’d be careful around a lot of the club women, Robin. You’d be surprised what some of them would do to try and knock that pedestal from under you.”
She didn’t even realize she was standing on one.
Making the final cuts, she stepped back and looked. Running her fingers through his hair, she was satisfied. “I don’t think that’s too bad. If I fail my exams, I could be a hairdresser.”
Preacher got up as she got to cleaning up the hair.
“Damn, you’re right. I may have to employ you as my own personal one.”
She laughed. Once the hair was cleaned up, she took some cold pizza and left Preacher to whatever he was doing.
Bishop was sitting on the floor, playing his video game.
“You done?” he asked, pausing his game.
She sat down beside him, eating her cold pizza. “I’m alive, and his hair is cut. I’d say it was a success.”
“You’re not bad at anything, Robin. When will you see that?”
She wasn’t used to him paying her compliments. “What is it you want?” she asked.
“I’m not wanting anything. Simply stating the truth.” He stroked her cheek. “I suddenly realized tonight that I don’t tell you enough just how special you are.”
“Now you are freaking me out just a little bit.”
He snorted. “Want to play?”
“Love to.”
He didn’t try to get into her pants or make her feel guilty, so she considered that a success. She hated rejecting him, but she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to have sex just for the sake of having done it. When she did finally commit, she wanted it to mean something, and Bishop, he slept around, a lot. The girls and women he slept with often told her about their time with him, trying to get her to snap, or make her jealous. It was odd. The first time, she’d been surprised, but she hadn’t been upset or hurt. She simply didn’t mind Bishop getting what he needed from elsewhere, and that was another reason she held back from actually having sex with him.
She loved him. There was no doubt about it. She cared about him a great deal, but did that extend to actually being in love with him?
Growing up in a home where her parents despised each other, she didn’t want a relationship with a guy to be about having a baby, or because it was expected. She wanted more.
She and Bishop had always been close and she never wanted to lose that, but just being together for the sake of being together, that didn’t seem or feel right to her.
“Are you okay?” Bishop asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Chapter Four
“Any idea who your replacement is?” Preacher asked, looking over at Milner.
He’d decided to pay a visit to Milner, the captain that was on the force, the biggest lawman in town.
“Nope. They have kept me out of the loop. They’re checking through all my files, but I can’t think of a single reason as to why they want me gone.” Milner let out a cough after he took a long drag on his cigarette. “Pieces of shit, the lot of them. They just want a bunch of new meat. I’m old news. They want me gone before it costs them more to keep me behind a desk.”
Preacher sat back, watching Milner.
When they had first gotten to know each other, Milner had been a stable cop. He’d never taken a bribe, and before Preacher got his President patch, no one had dared approach Milner. He was always gunning for the Twisted Monsters MC, until Preacher approached him during Milner’s time of need.
Fifteen years ago, Milner’s wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and any medical care in the country came at a really steep price. It often sent people into a whole load of debt, and Milner was no different. To save his wife, he’d nearly bankrupted himself, and there was no way to help his wife continue treatment, until Preacher came along. Along with the medical expenses, Milner also had another little problem on the side, gambling. The man, in his misery, liked to visit the races and tables in order to make a quick buck.
Preacher had offered Milner a deal, to look the other way, to let him help take care of the trash, so long as he didn’t get involved with club business. He’d keep him in the know, and also offer him certain details to keep anyone from looking too closely. In return, he paid for all the expenses, built up his savings, and offered him a nice retirement fund for all of his troubles.
At the time, he’d taken an advantage of a broken man, especially since Milner’s wife did not survive in the end.
Preacher hadn’t cared. There were only so many opportunities open to him, and seeing as this was the best one, he’d taken it. What Preacher hadn’t expected over the years was to actually like the old man.
Milner went to his wall cabinet, and Preacher watched as he swung open a picture, and opened up the safe right in front of him. He pulled out several files.
“Here you go. You can do whatever you want with these.”
“What are they?” Preacher asked.
“Old witness statements. Some from your wife.”
“She was
never my wife.” He’d never married Flora. He couldn’t stand the woman.
“She’d come to me, but we also got the evidence to prove she went to a rival gang. They must have seen an opportunity and killed her.”
Preacher didn’t dispute the man’s story. He also didn’t know if Milner was being blackmailed or someone was listening to their conversation.
As far as anyone knew, his ex—for some reason they always assumed she was his wife, but he never put a ring on her finger or said any vows—had gone to a rival MC, and they’d killed her.
What actually happened was, he’d been alerted by his contacts what they’d seen. When she’d come home, he’d killed her.
She’d screamed every second of the twenty minutes it had taken to kill her.
It was so much fun, but then, he’d never liked Flora. She’d been good for fucking but nothing else.
“Is everything okay, Milner?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Are you visiting the tables? The races? Are you keeping on the straight and narrow?” During Milner’s wife’s illness and after she died, he’d gone into a pit of despair and become addicted to gambling. Before, it could have been argued, he tried to do it for the peace it offered during a painful time, but after, it became a nasty addiction. Preacher liked him, and rather than see him fall, he’d taken care of him. He’d not put a bet on in years, at least as far as Preacher knew.
“Nothing. I’m good, Preacher. Just trying to figure out what to do with my fucking life now. I wasn’t ready for retirement, you know. I rather liked this gig.”
“I wish you well, Milner. I look forward to meeting your replacement.”
He got to his feet, shook the man’s hand, and noticed it was clammy.
Smiling, he left the house, got on his bike, and joined up with Bear, Grind, Smally, and Grave at the local diner. There was something going on with Milner, and he’d take care of it. He didn’t believe it had anything to do with the new cop. If anything, something was off with Milner’s life. He’d been changing over the past couple of years, but it hadn’t affected the club, so he’d not given it much thought. Now he was going to look into it. Maybe he was back into gambling. At the moment, Preacher wasn’t too concerned with Milner’s replacement. The town was a small one where barely any shit went down. In fact, he made the town rather more appealing just by being near it.